Chapter Twenty-Two: The Killer Was Also a Hairdresser

Qiao Residence.

"Mr. Qiao, it's Madam on the phone."

As soon as Zhang Ma finished speaking, Qiao Yuan dropped the cigar in his hand onto the carpet. He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound: "Quick, take it!"

Lin Tangqing's cool and indifferent voice came through the phone: "Mr. Qiao, thank you for the convenience you provided in transporting the raw materials for Huimin Textile this time."

“No need,” Lin Tang paused, “If Mr. Qiao is free this afternoon, I will pay him a visit to thank him for his generosity.”

Cheng Qing happened to walk in and saw his appearance. She sneered, "Has Master Qiao found a new love? He's all smiles like he's stolen honey."

Not long after, the barber arrived carrying his toolbox, dressed in tattered clothes, with old wounds still visible on the back of his hands.

Aunt Zhang said, "Master Wang is here."

He was a familiar face in the mansion, and he would come over every now and then.

Qiao Yuan didn't mind, sat on the sofa, and looked up: "Master Wang, be gentle, my beard has only just grown back a few days ago."

Barber Wang nodded, took a razor from his toolbox, wiped it on a sharpening cloth, and then brought it close to Qiao Yuan's chin.

Cheng Qing had already heard from Zhang Ma that Lin Tang was coming, and she couldn't help but feel jealous. She leaned against the door frame, crossed her arms, and looked at him: "Master Qiao, do you think Madam's visit this time might be because she wants to get back together with you?"

"What are you going to do?" Qiao Yuan jumped up in surprise and reached for his gun. Wang the barber pounced on him and slashed his throat with his razor.

Qiao Yuan dodged to the side, pulled out a gun from his waist, and with a "bang," the bullet hit Wang the barber in the shoulder, causing him to fall to the ground, writhing in pain.

Qiao Yuan stared in disbelief at the unassuming man before him, pointed a gun at him, and asked in a hoarse voice, "Who ordered you to do this?"

Zhang Ma was trembling with fear.

"Qiao Yuan, you beast!" Unexpectedly, the barber was not afraid at all. He clutched his shoulder, his eyes full of resentment. "My father smoked your Crescent Moon Gang's cigarettes and went bankrupt. My wife and children... my child got sick, and my wife had no choice but to sell herself in a brothel, but she couldn't save my child! My child died! Today I will avenge them!"

Qiao Yuan's hand gripping the gun trembled. He stared at Wang the barber, his voice filled with anger: "Are you crazy? What does this have to do with me?"

"It has nothing to do with you?" Wang the barber laughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "You're the leader of the Crescent Moon Gang, you're in charge of all the opium, and you say it has nothing to do with you?"

Qiao Yuan was speechless for a moment.

The barber jumped up, determined to make one last desperate attempt.

Qiao Yuan fired the gun instinctively.

"Lin Tang..." Qiao Yuan hurriedly put away his gun and wanted to go over, but Lin Tang took a step back, her eyes full of disgust, as if she were looking at a dirty rat.

"Master Wang!" Lin Tang recognized the barber and instinctively wanted to go over, but Qiao Yuan said, "Be careful!" and fired another shot.

The barber thrashed around for a while, and then he was truly dead.

Lin Tang's chest heaved as she looked at Qiao Yuan in disbelief.

"Qiao Yuan, are you crazy! He's the barber who usually cuts your hair, why are you going to kill him too?" Her voice was as cold as ice, and the brocade box in her hand fell to the ground, scattering the tea leaves inside.

Qiao Yuan panicked and stepped forward: "Lin Tang, he tried to kill me! I was acting in self-defense!"

"Self-defense?" Lin Tang laughed, a chilling laugh in it. "A barber wanted to kill you? Didn't you even consider what you did?"

She pulled her hand away from his and walked towards the door. Qiao Yuan chased after her, grabbing her arm: "Lin Tang, can we talk this out calmly? I know I was wrong, I can..."

Qiao Yuan knew she was telling the truth, and dejectedly lowered his hand.

Lin Tang still didn't turn around. "Qiao Yuan, I know I can't change your ambition, so all these years I've only been trying to find ways to help you with your business on the surface. I hoped to make more money for you through shopping malls and banks, so you could do less shady business. But now it seems impossible."

Lin Tangwei paused, and after a long while said, "Yes, it never has been."

She turned and walked out the door. Qiao Yuan stood at the door, watching her figure disappear into the alley. The gun in his hand fell to the ground with a crisp sound.

Cheng Qing walked over, picked up the gun, and said softly, "Master Qiao, let's go back."

Qiao Yuan didn't speak, but just stared in the direction of the alley entrance, the light in his eyes gradually dimming, like an extinguished star.

...

As Lin Tang staggered into the factory gate, the rumbling of machines from the workshop rolled over her like a gust of hot air.

She stood for a while, leaning against the door frame, watching the female workers in their blue cotton shirts weaving at their looms, the shuttles making a "clattering" sound. Someone looked up and saw her, smiling and calling out "Boss Lin." She wanted to smile too, but as soon as the corners of her mouth turned up, tears fell down.

"Lin Tang?" Chen Kan's voice came from behind.

Lin Tang turned around, tears clinging to her eyelashes like jasmine covered in morning dew.

She reached out and touched Chen Kan's palm, which still retained the warmth of the office, unlike Qiao Yuan's hand, which was always cold with gun oil.

“Chen Kan,” she said softly, “I once heard my master tell me in the Buddhist hall that when a Bodhisattva saw a demon burning a fire in hell, he wanted to save him. But the demon’s fire burned himself as well as others. When the Bodhisattva reached out, he was burned all over by the fire.”

Chen Kan only vaguely understood what he was hearing, but he had a feeling that it was related to Qiao Yuan.

He recalled their childhood in a Buddhist temple in Nanjing, where Lin Tang knelt on a prayer mat amidst the swirling incense smoke, and she told him, "All beings suffer, but there must always be someone who tries to help." At that time, her eyes shone like lamps before the Buddha. But now, that lamp has gone out, leaving only a pile of cold ashes.

"It's alright," he gently reached out and wiped away her tears. "Even if the Bodhisattva can't save her, there are still people who will stand with her through it."

...

Inside the Qiao residence, Qiao Yuan was still standing at the door, looking in the direction where Lin Tang had disappeared.

Cheng Qing handed him a cigar, which he took but didn't light.

The aroma of the cigar wafted up, like Lin Tang's tears just now, carrying a bitter taste.

“Master Qiao,” Cheng Qing said, “it’s time to go back.”

Qiao Yuan remained silent, like a standing stone pillar, for a long, long time before he finally turned and went into the house.

In the living room, Mr. Wang's body had already been dragged away, but his blood still remained, like a dark red flower.

He shook his head wearily and walked into the study.

He sank into the sofa, cupped his face in his hands, and muttered to himself.

“Lin Tang,” he said, “I know we are ultimately not meant to be.”

...

Outside the door, Cheng Qing watched, her eyes growing increasingly venomous.

She painstakingly used the Gangzi brothers to successfully provoke this incident. She originally thought that Lin Tang's public accusations against the Crescent Moon Gang in the newspaper would enrage Qiao Yuan, given his vengeful nature, leaving no room for reconciliation with Lin Tang. She, Cheng Qing, could then gently and considerately stay by Qiao Yuan's side when he was most angry and needed comfort the most, becoming his new support.

But what was the result?

Lin Tang was not intimidated by Qiao Yuan's "retaliation." Instead, she brilliantly turned the tide in public opinion, winning countless sympathies and support.

Looking at the faint, misty smile on Qiao Yuan's lips, Cheng Qing felt a surge of hatred, but then a thought crossed her mind and she smiled again.

She walked out of the Qiao residence in high heels. Sunlight shone on her cheongsam, making the moon-white fabric gleam like a white lotus blooming in the mud.

Ah Xiu opened the door to the old house in Hongkou. Upon seeing Cheng Qing, Ah Xiu's expression stiffened slightly, but she still smiled politely: "Miss Cheng, you've arrived."

"Ah Xiu, is your sister here?" Cheng Qing walked into the courtyard of the old house in Hongkou, her gaze seemingly casually sweeping over the surroundings.

"Miss hasn't returned yet." Ah Xiu was actually refusing, but Cheng Qing replied as if nothing was wrong, "Then I'll just wait for her here."

Ah Xiu was, after all, a servant, and since Cheng Qing was a guest, she could only lead her to the living room.